


poems: love

by jirrijirri



Category: Original Work
Genre: (But not as many as the sad stuff), Angst, Gen, Poetry, Sorry!, There's not-as-sad stuff here too!, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-02-08 11:45:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12863841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jirrijirri/pseuds/jirrijirri
Summary: Poems about love, unrequited love and the sadness of both. Warning: angst. And a lot of it.





	1. here it is

here, here it is, my heart, my searching, eager heart  
it's inside my ribs, surrounded by soft wings of empty lungs, and the strongest bones, the weakest bones  
it with warms me with its silence  
it strengthens me, it hurts me, it breaks me down, and it lifts me up  
imperfect yes but mine

here it is, my heart, my scared, hopeful heart,  
it's inside my ribs, surrounded by lungs bursting with nervous breath, and the weakest bones, the strongest bones  
It freezes me with its beating  
it lifts me up, it breaks me down, it hurts me, and it strengthens me,  
imperfect yes but-  
useful  
i can't say mine, not anymore  
i don't have it anymore see  
because it's there, that dirty, ugly thing that i spent hours, days, weeks, month, years scrubbing clean  
i put it inside a new, soft envelope on an old, unforgiving desk,  
in my hand here, in front of you, here.

\- j. g. c., here is my heart


	2. phantom feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you are missing from me  
> not like a limb, no

you are missing from me  
not like a limb, no  
i am not vain enough to compare myself to those who have  
but there is a phantom pain  
whenever i move

you are missing from me  
the figure across the bed  
the one i bump my elbows with when i brush my teeth  
you are missing from me  
the heat beside me  
the heat behind be  
you are missing from me  
the figure at the edge of my vision  
the starts and ends of the puzzle pieces  
you are missing from me  
the happy gleam in my eyes  
the curve of my smile  
you are missing from me  
half my life  
half my heart  
half the stars  
half the moon  
half the sun  
half my sadness  
half my happiness  
half my bones  
half my heartbeat

you are missing from me  
not like a limb, no  
i am not vain enough to compare myself to those who have  
but there is a phantom pain  
whenever i move  
they say the phantom pain disappears  
after seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months  
after the limb is gone

(you are missing from me)  
but i don't want the pain to go away  
because it'll mean i'll learn how to fill them with something else  
because it'll mean that i'll find new pieces  
because it'll mean that i know how to deal with it  
you being gone  
because it'll mean that i'll forget the feeling of having  
you

(you are missing from me)

\- j. g. c., phantom feeling


	3. leaving tomorrow

i'm leaving tomorrow, dear  
got my bags ready  
and my goodbyes too  
but i can't seem to let the words out  
to let you know

like 'can you leave a light on for me?'  
to take me home  
like 'i'll always come back you'  
because i know no other home  
like the words i've always wanted to say  
like 'can i kiss you before i go?'  
but i am never going to let the words go  
like 'it doesn't matter where i go and who i see, i'll still remember you'  
because the one i'll always love is you'

i'm leaving tomorrow, dear  
got my bags ready  
and my goodbyes too  
but i can't seem to let the words out  
to let you know

\- j. g. c., leaving tomorrow


	4. dust and stardust

they say we are made of dust and stardust  
of planets colliding and parting  
the debris ground to powder   
ignited to give us life

you're gone now  
but not completely   
you of the dust and stardust  
of planets colliding and parting  
the debris ground to powder   
you might be gone now  
but from you another is made

\- j. g. c., you of the dust and stardust


	5. this isn't about you (but...)

the light shines through the blinds  
to illuminate your face and the spaces and cracks around your body  
odes and song and poems are composed  
and pictures are taken and sketches made  
dedicated to that face, to that body  
the slope of the eyebrows and the shoulder  
the line of the torso and fingers  
the curve of the face and back

i could write you a song  
but i don't know how to play an instrument and read notes  
i could write you an ode  
but i don't know anything more complex than   
'you are the loveliest thing i have ever seen'  
i could make a sketch but  
i can't make anything but a stick figure  
i could take a picture  
and i can make a poem  
but even if i take one  
but even if i make one  
i'll never let you see it  
i'll never let you read it  
no, never

\- j. g. c., this isn't your poem (but it is)


	6. see you through the satellite

maybe i’d live on the moon   
except i’d miss you standing under the moonlight   
our silent sunset walks   
and how the lamplight  
made you as bright as the sun  
and how i can see you up close   
and not through a satellite

\- j. g. c., a moon dream


	7. lemon-flavored vodka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really sad? i even made myself sad just be rereading it! hahahahaha

i'm in my apartment taking the   
first, third, sixth   
sip of lemon flavored vodka   
because fuck it, it tastes like lemonade  
and the only way i can drink alcohol is if doesn't taste like alcohol  
you know what i'm saying?

but even though it tastes like lemonade  
it burns as it slides down my throat  
i could say like liquid fire  
but i don't want to get anywhere near a fire  
never mind drink it  
they say a third degree burn doesn't hurt  
the nerve endings fried to a crisp  
burned to numbness  
but the skin around it  
aches  
throbs  
hurts  
agony 

someone said that if you keep hurting yourself  
you keep hurting the same part   
over   
and over   
and over   
and over  
again  
the nerve endings all die  
and when that happens  
that part of you goes numb

i don't know where i'm going with this  
but i do know you're the vodka  
but what part?  
the part where drinking a little makes me tipsy?  
the part where drinking a lot makes drunk?  
the part that if i drink a little i drink a lot?  
the part where drinking a whole bottle makes me forget?  
the part where it tastes like lemonade but can't hide the burn?  
the part where i can't figure out which part is numb and which part hurts?  
the part where i don't even want to know which is which?  
the part where i'm drinking by myself and wishing you were here?  
drinking is present participle  
makes is the third person present singular  
were is past tense

i don't know where i'm going with this  
i'm too sober for this  
i think i'm only going to drink half the bottle  
so as not make myself sick  
(but i think i'm going to drink it all anyway)

\- j. g. c., fake lemonade for the heart


	8. (my) happiness

you went back  
back to the ones that you loved  
back to the ones that loved you  
you went away  
away from the dark alley ways and the bright bars  
away from the noise and the quiet of our apartment  
my friends say you went away from me too  
but i'm not vain enough to think i ever had you  
i am not vain enough for that  
no, never  
they have their happiness  
and i have mine

\- j. g. c., i have (my) your happiness


	9. (your) my happiness

wouldn't it be nice  
if being near me makes you happy  
like being near you makes me  
so that way  
you can be my happiness   
and  
i get to be yours

\- j. g. c., (i want to be) your happiness


	10. leaving

which is worse, do you think?  
me leaving you  
or   
you leaving me 

you leaving means you got bored with me  
and you moved on   
to better places   
to better things  
to better people  
that in the end, i really am not good enough  
me leaving means i don't love you anymore   
a betrayal  
a betrayal that goes against everything i say have been living for  
a betrayal that goes against everything i say i am  
a betrayal that goes against everything i say i hoped to be  
that in the end, i really am not good enough

which is worse, do you think?  
the spaces i give up  
or   
the spaces you leave behind

in the spaces you leave behind   
i see you everywhere   
the silence an accusation  
the scent still clinging an ache  
the warmth a shadow i always chase   
empty spaces solidifying into a painful truth  
in the spaces i give up  
what would you see  
would the silence be a question you can't answer?  
would you keep my clothes close?  
will you miss my unbearable heat?   
would the empty spaces even hurt?

which is worse, do you think?  
me leaving you  
or   
you leaving me

\- j. g. c., leaving


	11. leaving pt 2

which is worse, do you think?  
me leaving you  
or   
you leaving me 

you leaving me  
it'll hurt  
and  
uh  
well  
i don't know what to do with myself  
when you're gone

i think me leaving  
hurts less  
not a lot   
but less  
you know how to take care of yourself  
no   
wait  
that's wrong  
nevermind

\- j. g. c., leaving part 2


	12. dying?

you're dying  
i know that  
i saw your body  
i saw your blood  
i saw your smile  
but   
somehow  
i do not believe  
you are dying  
you are not suppose to be dying  
it was suppose to be   
me   
i should have died  
in your place  
you are   
too bright  
too loud  
too alive  
too kind  
to be dying  
not like me

\- j. g. c., dying (like me)


	13. fingertips (close to you)

in the bright light  
in the quiet library  
over an open book  
i had forgetten the words of  
our hand close  
the edges of our elbows touching  
the edges of our fingertips touching  
i always thought  
that it was a bridge between us  
a link made  
not with the words i can say  
but  
with my body that only   
wants to be close   
to you

\- j. g. c., fingertips (close to you)


	14. ft pablo neruda's sonnet 17

so  
no more beating around the bush  
i like you  
i like you a lot  
i don't know how to explain  
but i do

~~i read it once about someone 'setting off avalanches' in someone else's heart~~   
~~i guess i, i could describe what i feel for you like that~~   
~~but i'd be lying~~   
~~you don't 'set off avalanches' in my heart~~   
~~i don't~~   
~~sorry~~   
~~and honestly? i don't like it~~   
~~i mean, avalanches?~~   
~~really?~~   
~~it sounds painful~~   
~~really painful~~   
~~ow~~

i like you  
i like you a lot  
but i can't put it into words  
how you make me feel

~~i could say 'you make me feel high'~~   
~~but, uh, it sound like you're giving me illicit drugs?~~   
~~i could say 'when i kiss you it feels like continents divide'~~   
~~but continents dividing feels like earthquake~~   
~~and i experienced an earthquake once~~   
~~it was terrifying~~   
~~i could say seeing you is heart-stopping~~   
~~but i see you everyday and if my heart stops everytime~~   
~~i'd be dead, and, uh, that's not very good?~~   
~~i could say our first kiss~~   
~~the world tilted off its axis~~   
~~but i keep imagining apocalyptic landscape~~   
~~where everyone and everything's dead~~   
~~even me, even them, and even you~~   
~~and, obviously, that's not very good~~   
~~the sheer opposite of good~~   
~~i could say 'life-altering'~~   
~~but that would be an exaggeration~~   
~~i could say 'explosive'~~   
~~but i don't want to be an explosive, or~~   
~~be near one~~   
~~so, uh, yeah can't use that either~~   
~~and-oh my goodness, i don't know where i'm going with this~~   
~~i'm so sorry~~   
~~please ignore this~~   
~~you can even throw this away~~   
~~if you forget this, i will be so grateful~~

(there is a line in Pablo Neruda's Love Sonnet XVII,  
it goes like this :  
'so I love you because I know no other way than this'  
i don't where i'm going with this  
but i think that's it  
so i love you because I know no other way than this  
so i love you because I know no other way than this  
it seems unhealthy doesn't it?  
and maybe it is  
but i think it would be nice if we could go  
to a place  
'where I does not exist, nor you,  
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,  
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.')

\- j. g. c., putting it into words ft. love sonnet xvii


	15. ft. richard siken

Richard Siken once wrote that _These, our bodies, possessed by light._  
That is not my truth  
Because we are not light, we are not shadow either.  
or rather I am not made made of light, and shadow

I am made of iron and calcium and other elements I can't remember.  
That I don't care enought to remember.  
Want to remember.  
And I don't think I ever will.  
Care that is. Not want.  
Because i know how to care and i don't care about elements  
though i guess they're okay

But there is a light in you I think  
Found in small traces  
in your eyes  
in your fingertips  
in your toes  
in your smile  
in the edges of your mouth  
when you walk  
when you hum  
when you dance  
when you cry  
when you yell  
and i say small traces because

because i do not need you, or need the traces of light  
but i long yearn want desire,  
and i will drink taste all of them  
and i say small traces because  
anything bigger will burn me  
burn the longing yearning the want the desire the heart the care  
out of me  
though  
i guess that's okay too

 

\- j. g. c., traces of light


	16. a try

my try at (love) poetry  
i kind-of like poetry,  
i think it's kinda nice,  
and i think i'd maybe sort-of want to be a poet someday

but i don't think i'll be good at it  
take this supposed love poem for example:

i have no words to write  
i have no words to say  
i have no word to explain  
what i feel about you

all of the things i could try to write  
feel stupid  
and cheesy  
and rendundant  
and maybe a bit creepy?

like: you make me helpless  
like: you stop me dead in my tracks  
like: you make stupider than i already am

like: you make the world off kilter  
like: you make everything bright, almost blinding  
like: you make everything blurry like an unfocused photograph and the only thing i can make out is you

like: kissing you is heart-stopping, life-altering, and explosive?  
like: when we break apart it's with this slowness, a slowness like continents dividing and never finding each other again?

like i said: stupid and cheesy and redundant

but there is just i love you  
and i don't think that's enough  
just i love you, i love you,i love youi love youilove youiloveyou  
no commas no periods no spaces  
on and on and on until my lips are dry from saying it  
until i'm tired  
until i fall asleep  
until you fall asleep

on and on and on

until the words stop making any sense  
until i've run out of air

just  
i love you,  
i love you,  
i love youi love youilove youiloveyou  
no commas no periods no spaces  
_**i love you**_  
like i said: stupid and cheesy and redundant and creepy  
(i hope it doesn't sound too creepy)

 

\- j.g.c., my try at love poetry


	17. the problem with romance: side a

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> is that people like it differently

In a room in an almost rundown hotel  
It was almost Disgusting.  
You said, _Romantic_.  
And it was, by your standards.  
We didn't come to an agreement on the state of the hotel that night.  
We did come to an agreement on the state of our affairs that night.  
It was Romantic, by your standards.  
It was almost Romantic, by mine.

In a stage in a rundown theater  
We met under the lone light  
After three long weeks  
Of you saying nothing but _Hellos_ , _Good morning_ , and _Good nights_.  
I don't understand  
I didn't complain when  
You brought me to some sports game  
Did I?

There is a girl standing at the hallway  
waiting to see you

At the end of the week, we're arguing  
I don't understand  
Of course I'm jealous  
Three years since we started living together  
and still  
the roommate you never wanted any of your friends to meet.

At a table in a new coffee shop, meeting a friend of yours  
At the end of a long week,  
Of you saying nothing to me  
He says, _Hi._  
He asks, _You're a friend of his?_  
He says, _I gotta say I understand why he never introduced us._  
 _'Cause you have a face that I don't think I can handle._  
At the end of a long week of you saying nothing to me  
I laugh

There is a man sitting across the table  
smiling at me

Another end of the week, we're arguing again  
I don't understand  
Is it something I said?  
Is it something I did?  
Please help me understand.  
You may have cared about me once didn't you?  
You may have loved me once didn't you?  
In all the years we've known each other  
and still  
I'm standing at the hallway waiting to be let in

For another long three weeks, I didn't sleep.  
For another long three weeks, I woke up to you saying absolutely nothing to me.  
I want to set a jars of jam and baskets of bright flowers outside your door  
And a card saying _I'm sorry_  
Even a quiet _Good morning_ would have been alright  
In all the years we've known each other  
and still  
I'm walking behind you running to catch up

In a table in a rundown theatre  
After a long week of you moping about they say  
I met the girl waiting in the hallway under the lights  
She says, _Can you hold on for just a while?_  
She says, _Hold on._  
She says, _He'll come around eventually._  
I don't understand  
I thought I've been holding on for long time, didn't I?

I'm at the coffee shop again  
I'm staring at the paper on the table willing the pen in my hand to write  
What if I send a message through the tight teeth of Errors  
Through the cages around around us, around you, around me  
Through this distance-- immeasurable, insurmountable.  
Will you care then?

 

\- j.g. c., of romance & misunderstanding, side a


	18. the problems with romance: side b

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> is that people do it differently

In a room in an almost rundown hotel  
It was almost Disgusting.  
I said, _Romantic_.  
And it was, when the lights turned off.  
We didn't come to an agreement on the state of the hotel that night.  
We did come to an agreement on the state of our affairs that night.  
It was Romantic, by my wallet.  
It was almost Romantic, when the lights are off.

In a stage in your rundown theater  
We met under the single light  
After three long weeks  
Of me saying nothing but _Hellos_ , _Good mornings_ , and _Good nights_.  
I don't understand  
I thought you had fun when  
I brought you to a baseball game  
Didn't you?

There is a girl standing at the hallway  
waiting to see me

At the end of the week, we're arguing  
I don't understand  
Of course there's a girl waiting in the hallway  
I didn't want her to see you  
Three years since we started living together  
and still  
can't stand you meeting anybody else.

At a table in a new coffee shop, you met a friend of mine  
At the end of a long week,  
I imagine him saying, _Hi._  
I imagine him asking, _You're a friend of his?_  
I imagine him saying, _I gotta say I understand why he never introduced us._  
_'Cause you have a face that I don't think I can handle._  
At a table in a new coffee shop, you met a friend of min  
I imagine you laughing.

There is a man sitting across the table  
smiling at you

Another end of the week, we're arguing again  
I don't understand  
Please help me understand.  
I thought you cared about me didn't you?  
I thought you loved me didn't you?  
Please you have to understand.  
In all the years we've known each other  
and still  
think I'm everything you ever wanted.

For another long three weeks, I didn't sleep.  
For another long three weeks, I woke up to me saying absolutely nothing to you.  
But I want to set a jars of jam and baskets of bright flowers outside your door  
And a card saying _I'm sorry_  
and _I love you, I always have_  
and _I'm a sorry bastard for hurting you, aren't I?_  
In all the years we've known each other  
and still  
can't think of anything to say

I'm at the coffee shop I hate  
After a long week of me moping about they say  
Meeting a friend of mine at a table  
She says, _He's been holding on for a really long time, hasn't he?_  
She says, _Just... holding on, waiting for you come around._  
She says, _But I don't think he'll hold on for much longer.._  
I know okay, _I know._  
I just need a little more time, okay?  
Just a little more.

I'm at the coffee shop again  
I hate this place  
But I understand what I'm doing here  
I'm here to give you a letter that I wrote  
I'm here to give you a letter that I squeezed through the cages around us, around you, around me  
I'm here to give you a letter that'll wedge through the tight teeth of my Errors  
Through this distance that I made-- immeasurable, insurmountable.  
Through this distance that I made you suffer.  
Maybe I can make you understand then?

 

\- j. g. c., of romance & misunderstandings: side b


End file.
